■lwiVMln»ii>Miii<|ifc1 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT 
of 

Prof.   Majl  Ewlng 


/'      /) 

" 

y- 


^ 


;^ 


a^9 


blALLADS  OF  BeAUTY 


^ 


-'fb 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/balladsofbeautyOObake 


^^ 


BALLADS  OF  BEAUTY. 


EDITED    BY 

GEORGE    M.    BAKER. 


Jfortg  JfuII  IPage  Illustrations, 


'if  eye3  were  made  for  aeeino. 
then  beauty  18  its  own  exc08e  for  beino." 

Ehbisoit. 


BOSTON: 

LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  PUBLISHERS. 

NEW  YORK: 
CHARLES   T.  DILLINGHAM. 

1878. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874,  by 

Lee  and  Shepard, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Sf 


? 

i'A<;n 

Beauty.  —  Youtii; 13 

Waiting  in  the  Twilight.  —  Alice  Af.  Aiiams 14 

Life  Songs.  —  Amy  A'ey 18 

The  Welcome. —  Thomas  Davis 25 

Love  .vr  First  Sight.  —  Eihuard  Bukuer  Lytton 26 

O  Fairest  ok  the  Rural  Maids. — William  Cullen  Bryant         ...  30 

Louise  on  the  Doorstei'.  —  Charles  Mad-ay 37 

Our  Skater  Belli- — Anonymous 38 

Augusta.  —  Saxe -12 

LoRl>  Ullin's   Dauchtku. —  Thomas  Camphell 45 

Winter  .Sonc; 5° 

Thk  Mii.lkk's  Daughter. — A  If ral  Tennyson 54 


'% 


775c:rJ7 


CONTENTS. 


PACK 

Oh,  Were  My  Love  a  Country  Lass.  —  William  AUingham    ...  58 

The  Siesta. — William  Cullen  Bryant 62 

The  Queen's  Ride.  —  Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich 66 

Mary  Morison.  —  Robert  Burns ■.         .         .         .  70 

Margaret  and  Dora. —  T'loim-:  Campbell 74 

Out  in  the  Cold. — ^^ Fair  JKomen" 77 

The  Annoyer.  —  A/'.  F.  IVillis 82 

Desolate.  —  Gerald  Massey 86 

Llnger,  O  Gentle  Time 90 

Bonnie  Bessie.  —  George  S.  Burleigh 94 

The  Confidante.  —  "Fair  Wome7i'' 98 

Somebody  's  Waiting  for  Somebody.  —  Charles  Swain    ....  102 

Elise.  —  Henry  Gillman            ..........  106 

Somebody.  —  Anonymotcs         ...........  no 

A  True  Woman. — William  Wordsworth 114 

Flowers  and  Flowers.  —  "Fair  Women''^ 118 

She  Walks  in  Beauty.  —  Lord  Byron 122 

My  SunshinF-.  —  6".  P.  Driver 126 

A  Sleeping  Beauty. — Samud  Rogers 130 


^^ 


COA^  TENTS. 


eif 


XI 


The  Lady's  "Ves.'"  —  Elizabeth  Barrett  Brcnvning       .         .         .         . 
A    Health. — Edward  Coate  Pinktiey      .         .         ,    '     . 

Winifred's  Hair.  —  Hantilton  Aide 

I.N  THE  Orga.n  Lokt. — George  Artiold 

A  Garden  in  Hek  Face.  —  Richard  Allison 

When  Stars  are  in  the  Quiet  Skies.  —  luizvard  Bulwer  Lvtton   . 
The  Time  I've  Lost  in  Wooing.  —  Thomas  Moore 

X(JT  A   i\LA.TCH.  —  Henry  S.  Leigh 

Oh,  S.\w  Ve  the  L.\ss.  —  Richard  Ryan 


PAGB 

134 

138 

142 

146 

150 

'54 
158 
162 
lti6 


% 


4 


% 


Beauty. 


Beauty  gives 
The  features  perfectness,  and  to  the  form 
Its  delicate  proportions  :  she  may  stain 
The  eye  with  a  celestial  blue,  the  cheek 
With  carmine  of  the  sunset ;  she  may  breathe 
Grace  into  every  motion,  like  the  play 
Of  the  least  visible  tissue  of  a  cloud  ; 
She  may  give  all  that 's  rich  —  her  own 
Bright  cestus  —  and  one  glance  of  Intellect, 
Like  stronger  magic,  will  outshine  it  all. 


p 


14 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


W 


AITING     IN     THE 


7 


AA^ILIGHT 


LOWLY  from  the  western  hill-sides 
F'ades  the  sunset's  ruddy  light, 
^  While  the  birds  amid  the  tree-tops 

Softly  chirp  their  sweet  "  Good-night." 

Where  the  elm  trees'  spreading  branches 
Hide  the  streamlets  with  their  shades, 

Stands  the  fair-faced,  blue-eyed  Dolly, 
Flower  of  all  the  village  maids,  — 

Looking,  in  the  growing  twilight. 
Towards  the  grassy  fields  ahead. 

Listening  still,  with  eye  expectant, 
For  the  ever-welcome  tread. 

From  across  the  verdant  meadow 
Comes  a  whistle,  loud  and  shrill. 

Sounding  through  the  evening  stillness, 
Seemeth  but  the  whip-poor-will. 

But  the  fair  face  glows  still  brighter. 

And  the  eyes  more  eager  grow, 
As  the  notes  come  near  and  nearer. 

Louder  than  the  streamlet's  flow. 


tk 


WAITING   JX  THE    TWILIGHT. 


Soon  she  hears  the  well-known  music 
Of  his  voice,  borne  on  the  air  : 

"  Don't  you  hear  me  coming,  Dolly  ? 
Dolly,  dear,  I  '11  soon  be  there." 

And  the  one  she  's  long  been  waiting, 

Hat  upraised,  now  comes  in  sight. 
Hastening  towards  the  blue-eyed  maiden, 

Waiting  in  the  soft  twilight. 

Happy  hearts,  so  young  and  trusting. 
May  no  frost  e'er  blight  your  love, 

But  may  blessings  all  unnumbered 
Fall  upon  }ou  from  above  ! 


i8 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


V 


iFE    Songs. 


BROOK  flashed  from  a  rugged  height, 

Merrily,  merrily  glancing ; 
The  songs  of  the  summer  light 

Kept  time  to  the  tune  of  its  dancing. 
Fond  eyes  looked  on  its  dewy  sheen, 

Reading  fate  in  its  waters  ; 
"  Darling,  the  song  of  the  brook  is  for  j^ou, 

Fairest  of  earth's  dear  daughters.'' 
Bright  eyes  looked  on  its  dewy  sheen. 

And  the  songs  of  their  lives  rang  clearly, — 
"The  world  is  fair  !  the  world  is  fair!  " 
"  And  I  love,  I  love  you  dearly." 


\% 


Autumn  leaves,  like  a  fairy  fleet. 

Swept  down  towards  the  river  ; 
The  false  wind  moaned  through  the  dreary  sleet, 

"  The  flowers  are  dead  forever  !  " 
Sad  eyes  looked  down  on  the  shadowed  stream, 

Reading  fate  in  its  measure  : 
"  For  me  your  song,  for  my  withered  life, 

Pain  in  the  mask  of  pleasure." 
Sad  eyes  looked  on  the  shadowed  stream. 

And  the  songs  of  their  lives  rang  clearly,  — 
"  The  world  is  sad  !  the  world  is  sad  !  " 

"  Oh  !   I  loved,  I  loved  him  dearly." 


LIFE   SONGS.  2  1 


Jf -^ 
^ 


A  flush,  a  glow  on  the  winter  skies, 

Earth  smiles  in  her  happy  dreaming  ; 
Whispers  the  wind,  "  Arise  !  arise  ! 

The  dawn  of  spring  is  beaming." 
Calm  eyes  look  down  on  the  sunny  brook. 

With  a  smile  that  has  conquered  sadness  — 
'•  Your  song  is  for  me  in  this  sweet  spring-time, 

In  heaven  is  perfect  gladness." 
Calm  eyes  look  on  its  dewy  sheen. 

And  the  songs  of  their  lives  ring  gayly,  — 
"  The  spring  is  here  !  the  spring  is  here  !  " 

"  I  find  strength  for  mv  burden  daily." 


^—  -^; 


22 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


7 


HE 


W 


ELCOME, 


,OME  in  the  evening  or  come  in  the  morning, 

Come  when  you  're  looked  for  or  come  without  warning, 
Kisses  and  welcome  you  '11  find  here  before  you, 
And  the  oftener  you  come  here  the  more  I  '11  adore  you  ! 
Light  is  my  heart  since  the  day  we  were  plighted. 
Red  is  my  cheek  that  they  told  me  was  blighted  ; 
The  green  of  the  trees  looks  far  greener  than  ever, 
And  the  linnets  are  singing,  "  True  lovers  don't  sever  !  " 


I  '11  pull  you  sweet  flowers,  to  wear  if  you  choose  them, 

Or,  after  you  've  kissed  them,  they  '11  lie  on  my  bosom  ; 

I  '11  fetch  from  the  mountain  its  breeze  to  inspire  you  ; 

I  '11  fetch  from  my  fancy  a  tale  that  won't  tire  you. 

Oh  !  your  step  's  like  the  rain  to  the  summer-vexed  farmer, 
Or  sabre  and  shield  to  a  knight  without  armor. 
I  '11  sing  you  sweet  songs  till  the  stars  rise  above  me, 
Then,  wandering,  I  '11  wish  you  in  silence  to  love  me. 


We  '11  look  through  the  trees  at  the  cliff  and  the  eyrie  ; 
We  '11  tread  round  the  rath  on  the  track  of  the  fairy  ; 


■r 


We  '11  look  on  the  stars,  and  we  '11  list  to  the  river, 
Till  you  ask  of  your  darling  what  gift  you  can  give  her. 

Oh  !  she  '11  whisper  you,  —  "  Love,  as  unchangeably  beaming, 
And  trust,  when  in  secret,  most  tunefully  streaming, 
Till  the  starlight  of  heaven  above  us  shall  quiver, 
As  our  souls  flow  in  one  down  eternity's  river." 

IV. 

So  come  in  the  evening  or  come  in  the  morning. 
Come  when  you  "re  loo.ced  for  or  come  without  warning, 
Kisses  and  welcome  you  '11  find  here  before  you. 
And  the  oftener  you  come  here  the  more  I  '11  adore  you  ! 
Light  is  my  heart  since  the  day  we  were  plighted. 
Red  is  my  cheek  that  they  told  me  was  blighted  ; 
The  green  of  the  trees  looks  far  greener  than  ever. 
And  the  linnets  are  singing,  "  True  lovers  don't  sever  !  " 


Su 


^^^^d^ 


"tk 


^. 


26  BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY 


Love  at  Pirst    Sight, 


NTO  my  heart  a  silent  look 

Flashed  from  thy  careless  eyes  ; 

And  what  before  was  shadow,  took 
The  light  of  summer  skies. 

The  first-born  Love  was  in  that  lock  ; 

The  Venus  rose  from  out  the  deep 
Of  those  inspiring  eyes. 


My  life,  like  some  lone,  solemn  spot 

A  spirit  passes  o'er, 
Grew  instinct  with  a  glory  not 

In  earth  or  heaven  before. 
Sweet  trouble  stirred  the  haunted  spot. 
And  shook  the  leaves  of  every  thought 

Thy  presence  wandered  o'er! 

My  being  yearned,  and  crept  to  thine. 

As  if  in  times  of  yore 
Thy  soul  had  been  a  part  of  mine, 

Which  claimed  it  back  once  more  — 
Thy  very  self  no  longer  thine. 
But  merged  in  that  delicious  life 

Which  made  us  one  of  yore  ! 


is 


LOVE   AT  FIRST  SIGHT. 


29 


There  bloomed  beside  thee  forms  as  fair. 
There  murmured  tones  as  sweet  : 

But  round  thee  breathed  the  enchanted  air 
'Twas  life  and  death  to  meet. 

And  henceforth  thou  alone  wert  fair, 

And  though  the  stars  had  sung  for  joy, 
Thy  whisper  only  sweet ! 


>5ip 


•In 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


p  r 


AIREST     OF     THE 


f^ 


VURAL     Maids, 


FAIREST  of  the  rural  maids  ! 
|/^i\^  Thy  birth  was  in  the  forest  shades  ; 
•^i^^^  Green  boughs,  and  glimpses  of  the  sky, 
Were  all  that  met  thine  infant  eye. 

Thy  sports,  thy  wanderings,  when  a  child, 
Were  ever  in  the  sylvan  wild  ; 
And  all  the  beauty  of  the  place 
Is  in  thy  heart  and  on  thy  face. 

The  twilight  of  the  trees  and  rocks 
Is  in  the  light  shade  of  thy  locks ; 
Thy  step  is  as  the  wind,  that  weaves 
Its  playful  way  among  the  leaves. 

Thine  eyes  are  springs,  in  whose  serene 
And  silent  waters  heaven  is  seen  ; 
Their  lashes  are  the  herbs  that  look 
On  their  young  figures  in  the  brook. 

The  forest  depths,  by  foot  unpressed, 
Are  not  more  sinless  than  thy  breast  : 
The  holy  peace  that  fills  the  air 
Of  those  calm  solitudes,  is  there. 


) 


■(^i 


t  .    _ 

'  LOUISE    ON  THE  DOORSTEP. 


y 


OUISE      ON       THE        JOORSTEP 


>if 


ALF-PAST  three  in  the  morning  ! 
\J^j^     And  no  one  in  the  street 
(#^:^"^^  But  me,  on  the  sheltering  doorstep 
Resting  my  weary  feet, 
Watching  the  rain-drops  patter 

And  dance  where  the  puddles  run, 
As  bright  in  the  flaring  gas-light 
As  dew-drops  in  the  sun. 

There  's  a  light  upon  the  pavement, 

It  shines  like  a  magic  glass. 
And  there  are  faces  in  it 

That  look  at  me  and  pass. 
Faces  —  ah  !  well  remembered 

In  the  happy  Long  Ago, 
When  my  garb  was  white  as  lilies. 

And  my  thoughts  as  pure  as  snow. 

Faces  !  ah,  yes  !   1  see  them  — 
One,  two,  and  three  —  and  four  — 

That  come  in  the  gust  of  tempests, 
And  go  on  the  winds  that  bore. 

Changeful  and  evanescent, 

They  shine  mid  storm  and  rain. 


34 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


Till  the  terror  of  their  beauty 
Lies  deep  upon  my  brain. 

One  of  them  frowns  ;  /know  him, 

With  his  thin,  long,  snow-white  hair,  — 
Cursing  his  wretched  daughter 

That  drove  him  to  despair. 
And  the  other,  with  wakening  pity 

In  her  large,  tear-streaming  eyes. 
Seems  as  she  yearned  towards  me, 

And  whispered  "  Paradise." 

They  pass,  —  they  melt  in  the  ripples. 

And  I  shut  mine  eyes,  that  burn, 
To  escape  another  vision 

That  follows  where  'er  I  turn  — 
The  face  of  a  false  deceiver 

That  lives  and  lies  ;  ah,  me  ! 
Though  I  see  it  in  the  pavement, 

Mocking  my  misery  ! 

They  are  gone,  all  three  !  —  quite  vanished  ! 

Let  nothing  call  them  back  ! 
For  I  've  had  enough  of  phantoms. 

And  my  heart  is  on  the  rack. 
God  help  me  in  my  sorrow  ! 

But  there,  —  in  the  wet,  cold  stone. 
Smiling  in  heavenly  beauty, 

I  see  my  lost,  mine  own  ! 

There,  on  the  glimmering  pavement, 
With  eves  as  blue  as  morn, 


I 

II 


^ 


LOUISE    ON  THE   DOORSTEP. 


Floats  by  the  fair-haired  darUng 
Too  soon  from  my  bosom  torn. 

She  clasps  her  tiny  fingers, 
She  calls  me  sweet  and  mild, 

And  says  that  my  God  forgives  me 
For  the  sake  of  my  little  child. 

1  will  go  to  her  grave  to-morrow, 

And  pray  that  I  may  die  ; 
And  I  hope  that  my  God  will  take  me 

Ere  the  days  of  my  youth  go  by. 
For  I  am  old  in  anguish. 

And  long  to  be  at  rest, 
With  my  little  babe  beside  me. 

And  the  daisies  on  mv  breast. 


■^^>J-^'-- 


'^ 


\M 


Vfc 


38  BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 

Dui^    Skatef^   Belle. 

LONG  the  frozen  lake  she  comes 
In  linkmg  crescents,  light  and  fleet ; 

The  ice-imprisoned  Undine  hums 
A  welcome  to  her  little  feet. 

I  see  the  jaunty  hat,  the  plume 

Swerve  bird-like  in  the  joyous  gale,  — 

The  cheeks  lit  up  to  burning  bloom, 

The  young  eyes  sparkling  through  the  veil. 

The  quick  breath  parts  her  laughing  lips. 

The  white  neck  shines  through  tossing  curls  ; 

Her  vesture  gently  sways  and  dips, 
As  on  she  speeds  in  shell-like  whorls. 

Men  stop  and  smile  to  see  her  go  ; 

They  gaze,  they  smile  in  pleased  surprise  ; 
They  ask  her  name  ;  they  long  to  show 

Some  silent  friendship  in  their  eyes. 

She  glances  not ;  she  passes  on  ; 

Her  steely  footfall  quicker  rings  ; 
She  guesses  not  the  benison 

Which  follows  her  on  noiseless  wings. 


Smooth  be  her  ways,  secure  her  tread, 
Along  the  devious  lines  of  life, 

From  grace  to  grace  successive  led,  — 
A  noble  maiden,  nobler  wife  ! 


n 


>k 


•^ 


42 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


A 


UGUSTA. 


ANDSOME  and  haughty!  "  a  comment  that  came 

From  lips  which  were  never  accustomed  to  malice 
A  girl  with  a  presence  superb  as  her  name, 
And  charmingly  fitted  for  love  —  in  a  palace  ! 
And  oft  I  have  wished  —  for  in  musing  alone 

One's  fancy  is  apt  to  be  very  erratic  — 
That  the  lady  might  wear  —  No  !   I  never  will  own 

A  thought  so  decidedly  undemocratic  ! 
But  //"'twere  a  coronet — this,  I  '11  aver, 

No.  duchess  on  earth  could  more  gracefully  wear  it ; 
And  even  a  democrat  —  thinking  of  her  — 

Might  surely  be  pardoned  for  wishing  to  share  it ! 


i¥' 


^ 


LORD    ULLnXS  DAUGHTER. 


45 


j^opyD  y 


LLIN'S 


P 


AUGHTER 


V 


CHIEFTAIN  to  the  Highlands  bound, 
Cries,  "  Boatman,  do  not  tarry  ! 

And  I  '11  give  thee  a  silver  pound 
To  row  us  o'er  the  ferrv." 


"  Now  who  be  ye  would  cross  Lochgyle, 
This  dark  and  stormy  water  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  'm  the  chief  of  Ulva's  isle, 
And  this  Lord  Ullin's  daughter. 

"  And  fast  before  her  father's  men 
Three  days  we  've  fled  together  ; 

For  should  he  find  us  in  the  glen. 
My  blood  would  stain  the  heather. 

"  His  horsemen  hard  behind  us  ride  ; 

Should  they  our  steps  discover. 
Then  who  will  cheer  my  bonny  bride 

When  thev  have  slain  her  lover?" 


^>f^ 


Out  spoke  the  hardy  Highland  wight, 
"I   11  go,  my  chief,  —  I  'm  ready  ; 

It  is  not  for  your  silver  bright, 
I'ut  for  vour  winsome  l;\dv. 


46 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


W\ 


"  And  by  my  word  !  the  bonny  bird 

In  danger  shall  not  tarry  ; 
So  though  the  waves  are  raging  white, 

I  '11  row  you  o'er  the  ferry." 

By  this  the  storm  grew  loud  apace, 
The  water-wraith  was  shrieking  ; 

And  in  the  scowl  of  heaven  each  face 
Grew  dark  as  they  were  speaking. 

But  still,  as  wilder  blew  the  wind, 
And  as  the  night  grew  drearer, 

Adown  the  glen  rode  armed  men, 
Their  trampling  sounded  nearer. 

"  Oh,  haste  thee,  haste  !  "  the  lady  cries, 
"  Though  tempests  round  us  gather; 

I  '11  meet  the  raging  of  the  skies, 
But  not  an  angry  father." 

The  boat  has  left  a  stormy  land, 

A  stormy  sea  before  her. 
When,  oh  !  too  strong  for  human  hand 

The  tempest  gathered  o'er  her. 

And  still  they  rowed  amidst  the  roar 

Of  waters  fast  prevailing  ; 
Lord  Ullin  reached  that  fatal  shore  : 

His  wrath  was  changed  to  wailing. 


c#€: 


For  sore  dismayed,  through  storm  and  shade. 

His  child  he  did  discover  ; 
One  lovely  hand  she  stretched  for  aid. 

And  one  was  round  her  lover. 


^. 


w 


LORD    ULLIN'S  DAUGHTER. 


49 


"  Come  back  !  come  back  !  "  he  cried,  in  grief, 

"  Across  this  stormy  water. 
And  I  '11  forgive  your  Highland  chief, 

My  daughter  !  O  my  daughter  !  " 

'T  was  vain  ;  the  loud  waves  lashed  the  shore, 

Return  or  aid  preventing  ; 
The  waters  wild  went  o'er  his  child,  ' 

And  he  was  left  lamentine:. 


50 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


INTER     Song. 


INTRY  winds  are  calling, 

Whereso'er  I  go ; 
Dismally  is  falling, 

The  melancholy  snow ! 
Birds  from  off  the  bough, 

Long  have  taken  flight ; 
There  is  no  singing  now. 

And  scant  sunlight. 
I  weary  for  the  old  days, 

When  all  the  world  looked  gay ; 
These  are  the  cold  days,  — 

Summer  hath  fled  away  ! 

Love  and  peace  and  gladness, 

Stayed  a  little  space  ; 
Solitude  and  sadness 

Meet  me  in  their  place. 
Love  passed  idly  by. 

Soon  was  gladness  flown  ; 
Peace  was  last  to  fly,  — 

I  am  alone  ! 
And  I  weary  for  the  old  days, 

And  those  who  would  not  stay  ; 
These  are  the  cold  days, — 

Summer  hath  fled  away ! 


WINTER   SONG. 


53 


Heart !  hast  thou  a  reason 

Thus  to  throb  and  yearn 
In  the  wintry  season  ? 

Why  should  he  return 
In  the  wintry  hours  ? 

'T  is  too  late  to  gain 
One  who  mid  the  flowers 

Would  not  remain. 
And  I  weary  for  the  old  days, 

And  one  who  would  not  stay ; 
These  are  the  cold  days,  — 

Summer  hath  fled  away  I 


54 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


The 


Miller's 


Paughtei\. 


T  is  the  miller's  daughter,       ** 

And  she  is  grown  so  dear,  so  dear, 
That  I  would  be  the  jewel 
That  trembles  at  her  ear  ; 
For,  hid  in  ringlets  day  and  night, 
I  'd  touch  her  neck  so  warm  and  white. 

And  I  would  be  the  girdle 

About  her  dainty,  dainty  waist, 

And  her  heart  would  beat  against  me 
In  sorrow  and  in  rest ; 

And  I  should  know  if  it  beat  right, 

I  'd  clasp  it  round  so  close  and  tight. 

And  I  would  be  the  necklace. 
And  all  day  long  to  fall  and  rise 


i 


THE  MILLER'S  DAUGHTER. 


57 


Upon  her  balmy  bosom 

With  her  laughter  or  her  sighs  ; 
And  I  would  lie  so  light,  so  light, 
I  scarce  should  be  unclasped  at  night. 


^^^^ 


'Ut 


58 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


Dh,  were  my  Love  a  Country  Lass, 


H,  were  my  love  a  country  lass, 

That  I  might  see  her  every  day ; 
And  sit  with  her  on  hedge-row  grass 
Beneath  a  bough  of  May ; 
And  find  her  cattle  when  astray, 

Or  help  to  drive  them  to  the  field. 
And  linger  on  our  homeward  way, 

And  woo  her  lips  to  yield 
A  twilight  kiss  before  we  parted, 
Full  of  love,  yet  easy-hearted  ! 


Oh,  were  my  love  a  cottage  maid. 

To  spin  through  many  a  winter  night. 
Where  ingle-corner  lends  its  shade 

From  fir-wood  blazing  bright. 
Beside  her  wheel  what  dear  delight 

To  watch  the  blushes  go  and  come, 
With  tender  words  that  took  no  fright 

Beneath  the  friendly  hum  ; 
Or  rising  smile,  or  tear-drop  swelling, 
At  a  fireside  lesrend's  tellinsr  ! 


5^  ^    .^^-^^'^ 


iN 


OB,    WERE   AIY  LOVE  A    COUNTRY  LASS. 


6l 


% 


Oh,  were  my  love  a  peasant  girl, 

That  never  saw  the  wicked  town  ; 
Was  never  dight  with  silk  or  pearl. 

But  graced  a  homely  gown. 
How  less  than  weak  were  fashion's  frown 

To  vex  our  unambitious  lot  ! 
How  rich  were  love  and  peace  to  crown 

Our  green  secluded  cot. 
Where  age  would  come  serene  and  shining, 
Like  an  autumn  day's  declining  ! 


62 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


The     S 


lESTA. 


(FROM   THE   SPANISH.) 


IRS  !  that  wander  and  murmur  round, 
Bearing  delight  where'er  ye  blow, 

Make  in  the  elms  a  lulling  sound, 

While  my  lady  sleeps  in  the  shade  below. 

Lighten  and  lengthen  her  noonday  rest. 
Till  the  heat  of  the  noonday  sun  is  o'er  ; 

Sweet  be  her  slumbers,  —  though  in  my  breast 
The  pain  she  has  waked  may  slumber  no  more. 

Breathing  soft  from  the  blue  profound. 
Bearing  delight  where'er  ye  blow, 

Make  in  the  elms  a  lulling  sound, 

While  my  lady  sleeps  in  the  shade  below. 

Airs  !  that  over  the  bending  boughs, 
And  under  the  shade  of  pendent  leaves. 


>ar(//;fr.--7f==J 


THE  SIESTA. 


Murmur  soft,  like  my  timid  vows, 

Or  the  secret  sighs  my  bosom  heaves, — 

Gently  sweeping  the  grassy  ground, 
Bearing  delight  where'er  ye  blow. 

Make  in  the  elms  a  lulling  sound, 

While  my  lady  sleeps  in  the  shade  below. 


66  BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


-^ 


The    Queen's    'Ride. 


^    IS  that  fair  time  of  year, 
Lady  mine  ! 
When  stately  Guinevere 
In  her  sea-green  robe  and  hood, 
Went  a-riding  through  the  wood, 
Lady  mine  ! 

And  as  the  Queen  did  ride. 

Lady  mine  ! 
Sir  Launcelot  at  her  side 
Laughed  and  chatted,  bending  over, 
Half  her  friend  and  all  her  lover. 

Lady  mine  ! 

And  as  they  rode  along, 

Lady  mine  ! 
The  throstle  gave  them  song. 
And  the  buds  peeped  through  the  grass 
To  see  youth  and  beauty  pass. 

Lady  mine  ! 


% 


THE    QUEEN'S  RIDE. 


69 


And  on,  through  deathless  time, 

Lady  mine  ! 
These  lovers  in  their  prime 
(Two  fairy  ghosts  together  !) 
Ride,  with  sea-green  robe  and  feather, 

Lady  mine  ! 

And  so  we  two  will  ride, 

Lady  mine  ! 
At  your  pleasure,  side  by  side. 
Laugh  and  chat,  —  I  bending  over, 
Half  your  friend  and  all  your  lover. 

Lady  mine  ! 

But  if  you  like  not  this, 

Lady  mine  ! 
And  take  my  love  amiss, 
Then  I  '11  ride  unto  the  end. 
Half  your  lover,  all  your  friend. 

Lady  mine  ! 

So  come  which  way  you  will. 

Lady  mine  ! 
Vale,  upland,  plain,  and  hill 
Wait  your  coming.      For  one  day 
Loose  the  bridle,  and  away  ! 

Lady  mine  ! 


70 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


JAahy 


MoRJSON. 


MARY,  at  thy  window  be  — 

It  is  the  wished,  the  trysted  hour  ! 
Those  smiles  and  glances  let  me  see 
That  make  the  miser's  treasure  poor. 
How  blithely  wad  I  bide  the  stoure, 

A  weary  slave  frae  sun  to  sun, 
Could  I  the  rich  reward  secure, 
Of  lovely  Mary  Morison  ! 

Yestreen,  when  to  the  trembling  string 

The  dance  gaed  through  the  lighted  ha', 
To  thee  my  fancy  took  its  wing, — 

I  sat,  but  neither  heard  nor  saw, 
Though  this  was  fair,  and  that  was  braw. 

And  you  the  toast  of  a'  the  town, 
I  sighed,  and  said,  amang  them  a', 

Ye  are  na  Mary  Morison  ! 

O  Mary,  canst  thou  wreck  his  peace 
Wlia  for  thy  sake  wad  gladly  die  ? 


fe^lg   V^^  ^  ^-^■V-^^:^^:-^^^^.  KwH,:.''ifjr  I 


Or  canst  thou  break  that  heart  of  his, 
Whase  only  faut  is  loving  thee  ? 

If  love  for  love  thou  wilt  na  gie, 
At  least  be  pity  to  me  shown  : 

A  thought  ungentle  canna  be 
The  thought  of  Mary  Morison. 


A- 


74 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


Margaret 


AND 


D 


ORA. 


^Jm;! 


ARGARET 'S  beauteous,  —  Grecian  arts 
Ne'er  drew  form  completer  ; 
Yet  why,  in  my  heart  of  hearts, 
Hold  I  Dora's  sweeter  ? 


Dora's  eyes  of  heavenly  blue 
Pass  all  painting's  reach,  — 

Ringdoves'  notes  are  discord  to 
The  music  of  her  speech. 

Artists  !  Margaret's  smile  receive, 
And  on  canvas  show  it ; 

But  for  perfect  worship,  leave 
Dora  to  her  poet. 


%4| 


v«  ,MAf ' 


k^Bl 


^, 


OUT  IN  THE    COLD.  77 


P 


UT      IN       THE       UOLD 


P' 


^  ,.^.  i    XDER  a  bough  without  berries  or  leaves, 

Where  the  keen  winter's  slave  silver  webs  weaves, 
Where  the  bleak,  bitter  blast  swoops  o'er  the  hill, 
Where  the  swift-flying  flake  never  is  still, 
Maidens  three. 
Here  are  we. 

Surely  not  old. 
Pity  us. 
Succor  us, 

Out  in  the  cold  ! 


New  Year's  morn  tempted  us  out  in  the  snow. 
Rudely  the  blast  came  down,  making  cheeks  glow. 
Snatching  at  wrap  and  veil,  seeking  to  hurl 
Dead  leaf  and  flake  at  us,  tangled  each  curl. 

Company 

Maidens  three 

Are  not,  't  is  told  ; 

'T  is  not  fair  ; 

We  despair. 

Out  in  the  cold. 


78 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


Shelter  we  seek  in  vain  here  mid  the  storm, 
Waiting  most  patiently  some  welcome  warm  ; 
'T  is  but  a  secret  to  you  told  apart  — 
The  shelter  that  we  would  have  lies  in  some  heart. 

Sad  our  lot, 

Blame  us  not, 

Think  us  not  bold  ; 

Even  Eve 

Sure  would  grieve, 
Left  in  the  cold. 


Who  has  not  told  of  the  tendril-tipped  vine. 
Breathed  of  the  blossoms  in  poetry's  line. 
Vowed  that  the  former  needs  where  it  may  twine, 
And  the  latter  a  stay  where  its  petals  may  shine  ? 

Yet  alone 

Here  we  moan 

Troubles  untold  ; 

Blossoms  pale, 

Vine  a-trail. 

Out  in  the  cold. 


But  hark  !  there  are  steps  coming  over  the  snow, 

To  set  our  hearts  beating  and  make  our  cheeks  glow  ; 


Wi 


^4 


OO'T  AV  THE    COLD. 


m. 


And  yet  how  a-trcmblc  each  one  falls  again, 
As  longing  hearts  ponder  on  flight  by  the  lane  ! 
Yet  elate, 
'  T  is  too  late  ; 

Eager  and  bold 
Three  appear  — 
Nay,  are  here, 

Out  in  the  cold. 


>% 


¥'^ 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


T 


HE     A:nnoyei\. 


OVE  knoweth  every  form  of  air, 

And  every  shape  of  earth, 
■  And  comes,  unbidden,  everywhere, 
Like  thought's  mysterious  birth. 
The  moonUt  sea  and  the  sunset  sky 

Are  written  with  Love's  words. 

And  you  hear  his  voice  unceasingly. 

Like  song,  in  the  time  of  birds. 

He  peeps  into  the  warrior's  heart. 

From  the  tip  of  a  stooping  plume, 
And  the  serried  spears,  and  the  many  men, 

May'^not  deny  him  room. 
He  '11  come  to  his  tent  in  the  weary  night. 

And  be  busy  in  his  dream, 
And  he  'U  float  to  his  eye  in  morning  light, 

Like  a  fay  on  a  silver  beam. 

He  hears  the  sound  of  the  hunter's  gun. 

And  rides  on  the  echo  back, 
And  sighs  in  his  ear  like  a  stirring  leaf 

And  flits  in  his  woodland  track. 


Ql 


The  shade  of  the  wood  and  tlie  sheen  of  the  river, 

The  cloud  and  the  open  sky,  — 
He  will  haunt  them  all  with  his  subtle  quiver, 

Like  the  lij^ht  of  your  very  eve. 


He  blurs  the  print  of  the  scholar's  book, 

And  intrudes  in  the  maiden's  prayer. 
And  profanes  the  cell  of  the  holy  man 

In  the  shape  of  a  lady  fair. 
In  the  darkest  night  and  the  bright  daylight, 

In  earth,  and  sea,  and  sky. 
In  every  home  of  human  thought. 

Will  Lov.e  be  lurking  nigh. 


%£M^ 


)Se 


•M 


86 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


Desolate, 


HE  day  goes  down  red,  darkling, 
The^moaning  waves  dash  out  the  Hght, 

And  there  is  not  a  star  of  hope  sparkHng 
On  the  threshold  of  my  night. 


Wild  winds  of  Autumn  go  wailing 
Up  the  valley  and  over  the  hill, 

Like  yearning  ghosts  round  the  world  sailing, 
In  search  of  the  old  love  still. 

A  fathomless  sea  is  rolling 

O'er  the  wreck  of  the  bravest  bark  ; 
And  my  pain-muffled  heart  is  tolling 

Its  dumb  peal  down  in  the  dark. 

The  waves  of  a  mighty  sorrow 

Have  whelmed  the  pearl  of  my  life  ; 
And  there  cometh  to  me  no  morrow 

Shall  solace  this  desolate  strife. 


(^ 


m 


■CI3 


DESOLATE. 


Gone  are  the  last  faint  flashes, 
Set  is  the  sun  of  my  years  ; 

And  over  a  few  poor  ashes 

I  sit  in  my  darkness  and  tears. 


89 


m 


90 


BALLADS    OF  BEA  UTY. 


Linger,     0     Gentle    Ti/me, 


INGER,  O  gentle  Time, 
Linger,  O  radiant  grace  of  bright  to-day ! 
Let  not  the  hours'  chime 
Call  thee  away. 
But  linger  near  me  still  with  fond  delay. 


Linger,  for  thou  art  mine  ! 
What  dearer  treasures  can  the  Future  hold  ? 

What  sweeter  flowers  than  thine 
Can  she  unfold  ? 
What  secret  tell  my  heart  thou  hast  not  told  ? 


Oh,  linger  in  thy  flight ! 
For  shadows  gather  round,  and  should  we  part, 

A  dreary,  stirless  night 
May  fill  my  heart. 
Then  pause  and  linger  yet  ere  thou  depart. 


r-'fe 


% 


LINGER,   O   GENTLE   TIME. 


93 


Linger,  I  ask  no  more. 
Thou  art  enough  forever  —  thou  alone. 

What  Future  can  restore 
When  thou  art  Hown, 
All  that  I  hold  for  thee  and  call  my  own  ? 


V7' 


94  BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


-Ronnie    Bessie. 


LOVE  Bessie  and  she  loves  me  — 
Bonnie  Bessie,  who  lives  by  the  sea, 
Sweet  and  lovely  as  lass  can  be  ; 
White  and  rosy,  with  eyes  of  blue, 
Luminous  eyes,  like  globes  of  dew,  — 
You  see  the  morning  firmament  through 
Light  and  grace  in  her  motion  free. 
Sweetest  lady  of  all  I  see. 
For  I  love  Bessie  and  she  loves  me  ! 


Some  have  houses,  and  some  have  stocks. 
And  some  have  treasure  in  veined  rocks, 
And  some  heap  gold  in  an  iron  box ; 
Cattle  and  horses  and  sheep  have  some  ; 
For  another  his  great  ships  go  and  come, 
And  a  hundred  mills  for  his  brother  hum  ; 
But  I,  who  have  only  an  eye  to  see 
And  a  heart  to  bless  her,  can  happier  be. 
For  I  love  Bessie  and  she  loves  me  ! 


BOXNIE   BESSIE. 


97 


One  flaunts  a  title  before  his  name, 
And  one  behind  his,  —  both  for  the  same,  — 
Baggage  checked  to  the  Station  of  Fame  ! 
Office  and  honors,  ribbons  and  fees, 
Some  for  those,  and  others  for  these. 
Wrestle  and  run  in  the  mire  to  their  knees  ; 
But  I,  with  only  a  name  that  she 
Mak-es  musical,  can  happier  be. 
For  I  love  Bessie  and  she  loves  me  ! 


My  lady  is  eight  years  old  to-day, 

A  stave  of  music  that  danced  away 

In  a  fairy's  form,  —  a  morning  ray 

Involved  in  vapors  of  misty  pearl, 

That  flushed  and  throbbed  in  a  daint\-  whirl 

Till  it  stepped  to  earth  a  living  girl, 

With  the  sun-steeped  mist  yet  rippling  free, 

For  her  golden  hair  !  my  bliss  to  be. 

For  I  love  Bessie  and  she  loves  me  ! 

I  see  by  the  glass  that  Time  has  tossed 
Over  my  locks  his  powdery  frost ; 
But  whoot,  old  man,  your  labor  is  lost  ! 
For  every  day  you  lessen  the  way 
Between  me  and  my  delicate  fay, 
My  bonny,  bounding  Bessie  Grey  ; 
Years  may  whiten  what  white  may  be, 
But  the  heart  she  lightens  is  young  as  she, 
For  I  love  Bessie  and  she  loves  me  ! 


^ 


'k 


98 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


T 


HE       LONFIDANTE. 


LETTER,  Lucy?  for  me  to  read? 

Ah,  tell-tale  blushes,  what  secret  now? 
I  am  but  teasing.     There,  never  heed. 
Nor  blur  with  furrows  that  little  brow. 


II. 


Yes,  as  I  thought.     'T  is  the  old,  old  tale  : 
He  loves  you  ;  dreams  of  you  night  and  day ; 

With  hope  he  brightens,  with  dread  turns  pale,  — 
Truths,  dear  sister,  or  babblings  gray. 


III. 


Love  lives  forever,  if  heart-born,  real ; 

But  fades  like  the  roses  I  've  now  just  clipped. 
When  told  by  one  who  your  peace  would  steal, 

Then  flit  to  some  bloss'om  as  honey-lipped. 


To  you  each  word  here  is  truth's  own  mint : 
To  me,  once  cheated,  there  's  room  for  doubt ; 

You,  sister,  could  him  give  your  love  sans  stint  — 
What,  tears  and  trembling?  a  dawning  pout? 


li^ 


rQ) 


tip 


THE   CONFIDANTE. 


lOI 


V. 


Yes,  as  I  thought.     'T  is  the  old,  old  tale  : 
He  loves  you  ;  dreams  of  you  night  and  day ; 

With  hope  he  brightens,  with  dread  turns  pale,  - 
Truths,  dear  sister,  or  babblings  gray. 

VI. 

Well,  darling,  believe  then,  and  cynic  thought 
Shall  fade  away  in  your  love's  sweet  sun. 

He  is  not  worldly  nor  fashion-taught ; 
I  would  not  darken  new  light  begun. 

VII. 

His  words  are  manly  ;  an  honest  ring 

Sounds  in  each  sentence.     Ah  !  Lucy,  live 

Long  in  the  love  that  can  never  wing, 

Whilst  1  —  well,  yes  —  I  have  yet  to  give. 


I02 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


)OMEBODY'S 


V](i 


AITING  FOR 


SoyViEBODY, 


^^AINY  and  rough  sets  the  day,  — 
qj>7^        There  's  a  heart  beathig  for  somebody  ; 
1 1  must  be  up  and  away,  — 
Somebody 's  anxious  for  somebody. 
Thrice  hath  she  been  to  the  gate, 

Thrice  hath  she  listened  for  somebody. 
Midst  the  night,  stormy  and  late. 
Somebody  's  waiting  for  somebody. 


There  '11  be  a  comforting  fire. 

There  'II  be  a  welcome  for  somebody  ; 
One,  in  her  neatest  attire, 

Will  look  at  the  table  for  somebody. 
Though  the  stars  fled  from  the  west. 

There  is  a  star  yet  for  somebody, 
Lighting  the  home  he  loves  best. 

Warming  the  bosom  of  somebody. 


There  '11  be  a  coat  o'er  the  chair, 

There  will  be  slippers  for  somebody  ; 


There  '11  be  a  wife's  tender  care,  — 

Love's  fond  embracement  for  somebody 

There  '11  be  the  little  one's  charms,  — 
Soon  't  will  be  wakened  for  somebody. 

When  I  have  both  in  my  arms, 

Oh  !  but  how  blest  will  be  somebodv. 


^%'*^ 


I06  BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY 


Elise. 


)^^^ 


\  ^^    WATCHED  him  through  the  lattice 
As  he  went  clown  the  street, 
And  all  my  heart  went  with  him 
In  many  a  wild  pulse-beat. 


'T  was  in  the  gentle  spring-time, 
At  the  vanishing  of  snow. 

And  my  sullen,  stagnant  nature 
Began  to  bloom  and  blow  — 


Began  to  feel  within  it 

Rise  a  strange,  unearthly  power. 
As  the  perfume  rises  softly 

In  the  newly-opened  flower. 


He  brought  me  buds  and  blossoms, 
He  brought  me  gladness,  too  ; 

And  I  told  him  —  told  him  truly, 
When  he  came  to  woo. 


w 


ELISE. 


^ 


109 


A  heaven  on  earth,  my  master  ! 

My  gracious  lord,  my  king  ! 
I  knew  thee  when  I  saw  thee, 

And  thv  voice  made  silence  ring. 


The  silences  within  me, 

That  never  had  been  broke, 

Passed  into  mystic  music  ; 
They  heard  thee,  and  awoke. 


The  world  says  I  am  tickle. 
And  that  my  heart  is  stone, 

But  I  feel  through  all  my  being 
That  mv  soul  and  liis  are  one. 


His  greatness  ever  lifts  me 
Where  holier  light  is  given. 

How  weak  are  thanks  for  blessings 
Which  shall  endure  in  heaven  ! 


^ 


no  BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


Soyvi 


OMEBODY. 


OMEBODY  'S  courting  somebody, 

Somewhere  or  other  to-night ; 
Somebody  's  whispering  to  somebody, 
Somebody  's  listening  to  somebody, 
Under  this  clear  moonlight. 


Near  the  bright  river's  flow, 
Running  so  still  and  slow. 
Talking  so  soft  and  low, 
She  sits  with  somebody. 

Pacing  the  ocean's  shore, 
Edged  by  the  foaming  roar. 
Words  never  used  before 
Sound  sweet  to  somebody. 

Under  the  maple-tree. 
Deep  though  the  shadow  be, 
Plain  enough  they  can  see. 
Bright  eyes  has  somebody. 


^ 


so  ME  BOD  V. 


1  I  "^ 


>h- 


No  one  sits  up  to  wait, 
Though  she  is  out  so  late, 
All  know  she  's  at  the  gate. 
Talking  with  somebody. 

Tiptoe  to  parlor  door. 
Two  shadows  on  the  floor. 
Moonlight,  reveal  no  more, 
Susy  and  somebody. 

Two,  sitting  side  by  side,  # 

Float  with  the  ebbing  tide,  — 
"  Thus,  dearest,  may  we  glide 
Through  life,"  says  somebody. 

Somewhere,  somebody 
Makes  love  to  somebody, 
To-nijrht. 


114 


BALLADS    OF  BEA  UTY. 


A 


p>^E    Woman, 


HE  was  a  phantom  of  delight 
When  first  she  gleamed  upon  my  sight  ; 
A  Ibvely  apparition,  sent 
To  be  a  moment's  ornament ; 
Her  eyes  as  stars  of  twilight  fair, 
Like  twilight's,  too,  her  dusky  hair  ; 
But  all  things  else  about  her  drawn 
From  May  time  and  the  cheerful  dawn ; 
A  dancing  shape,  an  image  gay, 
To  haunt,  to  startle,  and  waylay. 

I  saw  her  upon  nearer  view, 

A  spirit,  yet  a  woman  too  ! 

Her  household  motions  light  and  free, 

And  steps  of  virgin  liberty  ; 

A  countenance  in  which  did  meet 

Sweet  records,  promises  as  sweet ; 

A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 

For  human  nature's  daily  food, 

For  transient  sorrows,  simple  wiles. 

Praise,  blame,  love,  kisses,  tears,  and  smiles. 


A    TRUE    WOMAN. 


And  now  I  see  with  eye  serene 

The  very  pulse  of  the  machine  ; 

A  being  breathing  thoughtful  breath, 

A  traveller  betwixt  life  and  death  ; 

The  reason  firm,  the  temperate  will, 

Endurance,  foresight,  strength,  and  skill ; 

A  perfect  woman,  nobly  planned. 

To  warn,  to  comfort,  and  command  ; 

And  yet  a  spirit  still,  and  bright 

With  something  of  an  angel  light. 


•75) 


ii8 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY, 


r 


LOV\^EF\S, 


AND      TLO^A^EI^S. 


^^EAUTIFUL  flowers, 
^      In  feathery  bowers, 

Filling  the  air  with  a  silent  perfume  ; 
Sweet  garden  of  roses. 
Your  beauty  discloses 
A  charm  to  subdue  the  soul's  sadness  and  gloom. 


From  rich  parterre, 

Or  where  city  air, 
Though  dank  and  noisome,  hath  left  you  living, 

Ye  come  together 

In  the  summer  weather. 
To  praise  His  name  who  is  ever  giving. 


Oh,  the  joy  and  grace 

That  enrich  the  place 
Where  your  manifold  tints  and  odors  are  spread  ! 

Bewitching  and  rare. 

Ye  make  the  land  fair 
As  the  Garden  of  Eden  long  mourned  as  dead. 


yS 

W^-:  4 

•^  '  ■  ■'' 

— 1-    -    — 

# 


M 


FLOWEJ^S,   AND   FLOWERS. 


121 


Beautiful  girls  ! 

England's  fair  pearls, 
Whose  hands  are  lilies,  whose  cheeks  are  roses, 

These  upturned  faces 

Of  flower-graces 
Are  uttering  sounds  as  their  life  disposes. 


They  lead  you  through 

Yon  sunny  blue, 
A  link  'twixt  earth  and  the  angel-powers. 

And  seem  to  say, 

Singing  day  by  day, 
"  God  make  you  blossom  and  bloom  like  the  flowers. 


122 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


She    ^ k'ly^^    in    Beauty. 


)HE  walks  in  beauty,  like  the  night 

Of  cloudless  climes  and  starry  skies  ; 
And  all  that 's  best  of  dark  and  bright 
Meets  in  her  aspect  and  her  eyes  ; 
Thus  mellowed  to  that  tender  light 
Which  heaven  to  gaudy  day  denies. 


One  shade  the  more,  one  ray  the  less, 
Had  half  impaired  the  nameless  grace 

Which  waves  in  every  raven  tress, 
Or  softly  lightens  o'er  her  face,  — 

Where  thoughts  serenely  sweet  express 
How  pure,  how  dear,  their  dwelling-place. 


And  on  that  cheek,  and  o'er  that  brow, 
So  soft,  so  calm,  yet  eloquent, 


The  smiles  that  win,  the  tints  that  glow, 
But  tell  of  days  in  goodness  spent  — 

A  mind  at  peace  with  all  below, 
A  heart  whose  love  is  innocent. 


126 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


My    ^ 


UNSHINE. 


IKE  a  cluster  of  sunbeams  her  hair  is, 
^,     As  blue  as  the  sky-tints  her  eye, 
■^^i^And  I  think  of  the  Queen  of  the  Fairies 
Whenever  she  passes  me  by ; 
And  if  we  had  fays 
Flitting  round  nowadays, 
I  shonXdfear  she  might  fly  far  away 
Some  day. 


Sometimes  I  am  puzzled  with  wonder, 

To  know  why  the  wings  were  left  out ; 
But  I  'm  pleased  that  they  made  such  a  blunder. 
When  the  little  one  first  came  about ; 
For  if  she  had  wings, 
And  soft  feathers  and  things, 
I  should  know  she  would  fly  far  away 
Some  day. 


•otf    ^ 


MY  SUNSHINE. 


129 


I  suspect,  after  all,  she  's  but  human  ; 
Yet  an  angel  I  could  n't  love  more. 
She  's  a  sunshiny,  sweet  little  woman, 
And  her  heart  is  a  wide-open  door. 
Oh,  may  never  a  sin, 
Through  that  door  enter  in  ! 
For  I  know  she  wiil  fly  far  away 

Some  day. 


^v 


>h- 


I30 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


Sleeping     Beauty. 


1-»    ! 


LEEP  on,  and  dream  of  Heaven  awhile  ! 

Though  shut  so  close  thy  laughing  eyes, 
Thy  rosy  lips  still  wear  a  smile, 

And  move  and  breathe  delicious  sighs. 


Ah  !  now  soft  blushes  tinge  her  cheeks 
And  mantle  o'er  her  neck  of  snow  ; 

Ah  !  now  she  murmurs,  now  she  speaks, 
What  most  I  wish,  and  fear  to  know. 


She  starts,  she  trembles,  and  she  weeps, 
Her  fair  hands  folded  on  her  breast ; 

And  now,  how  like  a  saint  she  sleeps, 
A  seraph  in  the  realms  of  rest ! 


A   SLEEPING  BEAUTY. 


Sleep  on  secure  !     Above  control, 

Thy  thoughts  belong  to  Heaven  and  tliee  ; 
And  may  the  secret  of  thy  soul 

Remain  within  its  sanctuary  ! 


9 


133 


*^*> 
©f 


% 


134 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


The    Lady's    Y 


I  answered  you  last  night ; 
"  No  !  "  this  morning,  sir,  I  say. 
Colors  seen  by  candle-light 
Will  not  look  the  same  by  day. 


When  the  tabors  played  their  best, 
Lamps  above  and  laughs  below, 

Love  7)te  sounded  like  a  jest, 
Fit  for  yes  or  fit  for  no. 


Call  me  false  or  call  me  free, — 
Vow,  whatever  light  may  shine, 

No  man  on  thy  face  shall  see 
Any  grief  for  change  on  mine. 


Yet  the  sin  is  on  us  both  : 

Time  to  dance  is  not  to  woo  ; 

Wooer  light  makes  fickle  troth  ; 
Scorn  of  me  recoils  on  vou. 


■^< 


THE   LADY'S    YES.  137 


Learn  to  win  u  lady's  faith 
Nobly,  as  the  thing  is  high  ; 

Bravely,  as  for  life  and  death,  - 
With  a  loyal  gravity. 


Lead  her  from  the  festive  boards. 
Point  her  to  the  starry  skies, 

Guard  her  by  your  faithful  words, 
Pure  from  courtship's  flatteries. 


By  your  truth  she  shall  be  true. 
Ever  true,  as  wives  of  yore  ; 

And  her  Yes,  once  said  to  you. 
Shall  be  Yes  forevermore. 


% '^ 


138  BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


A 


Wealth. 


FILL  this  cup  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone,  — 
A  woman,  of  her  gentle  sex 
The  seeming  paragon  ; 
To  whom  the  better  elements 

And  kindly  stars  have  given 
A  form  so  fair,  that,  like  the  air, 
'T  is  less  of  earth  than  heaven. 

Her  every  tone  is  music's  own, 

Like  those  of  morning  birds. 
And  something  more  than  melody 

Dwells  ever  in  her  words  ; 
The  coinage  of  her  heart  are  they, 

And  from  her  lips  each  flows 
As  one  may  see  the  burdened  bee 

Forth  issue  from  the  rose. 

Affections  are  as  thoughts  to  her. 
The  measures  of  her  hours  ; 

Her  feelings  have  the  fragrancy. 
The  freshness  of  young  flowers  ; 


l^f} 


A    HEALTH. 


And  lovely  passions,  changing  oft, 

So  fill  her,  she  appears 
The  image  of  themselves  by  turns,  — 

The  idol  of  past  years  I 

Of  her  bright  face  one  glance  will  trace 

A  picture  on  the  brain, 
And  of  her  voice  in  echoing  hearts 

A  sound  must  long  remain  ; 
But  memory,  such  as  mine  of  her, 

So  very  much  endears. 
When  death  is  nigh,  my  latest  sigh 

Will  not  be  life's,  but  hers. 

I  fill  this  cup  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone,  — 
A'woman,  of  her  gentle  sex 

The  seeming  paragon  : 
Her  health  !   and  would  on  earth  there  stood 

Some  more  of  such  a  frame, 
That  life  might  be  all  poetry. 

And  weariness  a  nanu-. 


141 


"lW 


142 


BALLADS    OF  BEAUTY. 


WlNIFI^D'S      HaII\. 


INIFRED,  waking  in  the  morning, 
^^     Locks  dishevelled,  sighed,  "  Alas  ! 
•Broken  is  the  Venice-bodkin 

That  you  gave  me  —  't  was  of  glass. 
All  my  auburn  hair,  henceforward, 

Shall  be  given  to  the  wind." 
Ere  the  evening  came,  another's 
Net  of  pearl  her  hair  confined. 


Frail  as  the  Venetian  bauble 

I  had  thrust  in  Winifred's  hair ; 
Lo  !  the  net  now  snapped  asunder. 

Other  hands  had  fastened  there. 
Ere  the  moon's  wide-blossomed  petals 

On  the  breast  of  night  had  died. 
Net  and  bodkin  both  deserted, 

Winifred's  glittering  hair  flowed  wide  ! 


^ 


'^ 


WINIFRED 'S    HAIR. 


145 


Silver  comb  and  silken  fillet 

Next  in  turn  the  wild  hair  bound, 
Till  at  length  the  crown  of  wifehood 

Clasped  its  bands  that  hair  around, 
Golden  crown  of  Love  I  displacing 

Girlhood's  vain  adornments  there. 
Winifred  never  more  shall  alter. 

Now,  the  fashion  of  her  hair. 


^ 


146 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


N      THE       Ol^GAN      LoFT. 


HE  dead  in  their  ancient  graves  are  still  ; 

There  they  've  slept  for  many  a  year  ; 
'^The  last  faint  sunbeams  glance  o'er  the  hill, 
Gilding  the  dry  grass,  tall  and  sere, 
And  the  foam  of  the  babbling  rill. 

Into  the  church  the  ruddy  light  falls. 

Through  rich  stained  windows,  narrow  and  high  ; 
Pictures  it  paints  on  the  old  gray  walls, 

Scenes  from  the  days  that  have  long  gone  by,  — 
And  hark  !  't  is  my  Rosalie  calls  ! 

She  calls  my  name,  —  I  have  heard  it  oft 

Just  at  the  golden  sun's  decline  ; 
I  answer  the  call,  so  sweet  and  soft ; 

And,  turning,  see  where  her  bright  eyes  shine. 
High  up  in  the  organ  loft. 

I  pass  the  winding  and  narrow  stair  ; 

The  gallery  door  stands  open  wide  ; 
I  know  no  shadow  of  pain  or  care. 

While  darling  Rosalie  stands  by  my  side, 
In  the  sunset  liffht  so  fair. 


IN  THE    ORGAN  LOFT. 


149 


What  grand  old  hymns  and  chants  we  sang, 
Grand  old  chants  that  I  loved  so  well  ! 

And  the  organ's  tones,  —  how  they  pealed  and  rang. 
Piercing  the  heart,  no  tongue  can  tell 

With  what  a  delicious  pang ! 

Oh,  those  hours  !  what  holy  light 

Hovers  around  when  their  memories  rise  ! 

Music,  love,  and  the  sunset  bright, 

Tenderest  glances  from  Rosalie's  eyes, 

And  a  long,  sweet  kiss,  for  good-night ! 


I50 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


A        pAlRJDEN      IN      HEI^    f^ACE. 


HERE  is  a  garden  in  her  face, 

Where  roses  and  white  liHes  grow  ; 
'A  heavenly  paradise  is  that  place, 
Wherein  all  pleasant  fruits  do  grow  ; 
There  cherries  grow  that  none  may  buy, 
Till  cherry-ripe  themselves  do  cry. 


Those  cherries  fairly  do  inclose 

Of  orient  pearl  a  double  row. 
Which,  when  her  lively  laughter  shows. 

They  look  like  rose-buds  filled  with  snow  ; 
Yet  these  no  peer  nor  prince  may  buy, 
Till  cherry-ripe  themselves  do  cry. 


Her  eyes  like  angels'  watch  there  still. 
Her  brows  like  bended  bows  do  stand, 


A    GARDEN  IN  HER  FACE. 


153 


Threatening  with  piercing  frowns  to  kill 
All  that  approach  with  eye  or  hand, 

Those  sacred  cherries  to  come  nigh, 
Till  cherry-ripe  themselves  do  cry. 


>h 


154 


BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


When  Stars  ai\e  in  the  Quiet  Skies. 


HEN  stars  are  in  the  quiet  skies, 
f^Mi'^     Then  most  I  pine  for  thee. 
'**'-^^^  Bend  on  me  then  thy  tender  eyes, 
As  stars  look  on  the  sea  ! 
For  thoughts,  like  waves  that  glide  by  night, 

Are  stillest  when  they  shine  ; 
Mine  earthly  love  lies  hushed  in  light 
Beneath  the  heaven  of  thine. 


There  is  an  hour  when  angels  keep 

Familiar  watch  o'er  men, 
When  coarser  souls  are  wrapped  in  sleep, 

Sweet  spirit,  meet  me  then  ! 
There  is  an  hour  when  holy  dreams 

Through  slumber  fairest  glide  ; 
And  in  that  mystic  hour,  it  seems 

Thou  shouldst  be  by  my  side. 


^ 


'JN 


WHEN  STARS   ARE   IX  THE    QUVET  SAVES.       I  57 


My  thoughts  of  thee  too  sacred  are 

For  daylight's  common  beam  : 
I  can  but  know  thee  as  my  star, 

My  angel,  and  my  dream  ! 
When  stars  are  in  the  quiet  skies, 

Then  most  I  pine  for  thee. 
Bend  on  me  then  thy  tender  eyes, 

As  stars  look  on  the  sea  ! 


>IP 


HE 


Jyvi: 


j    'VE       L 


OST      IN 


Wooing. 


HE  time  I  've  lost  in  wooing 
In  watching  and  pursuing 
The  light  that  lies 
In  Woman's  eyes, 
Has  been  my  heart's  undoing. 
Though  Wisdom  oft  has  sought  me, 
I  scorned  the  lore  she  brought  me ; 
My  only  books 
Were  Woman's  looks, 
And  folly  's  all  they  taught  me. 


Her  smiles  when  Beauty  granted, 
I  hung  with  gaze  enchanted, 

Like  him,  the  sprite. 

Whom  maids  by  night 
Oft  meet  in  glen  that 's  haunted. 
Like  him,  too,  Beauty  won  me 
But  while  her  eyes  were  on  me  ; 

If  once  their  ray 

Was  turned  away. 
Oh,  winds  could  not  outrun  me  ! 


fef€: 


And  are  those  follies  going? 
And  is  my  proud  heart  growing 

Too  cold  or  wise 

For  brilliant  eyes 
Again  to  set  it  glowing? 
No,  —  vain,  alas  !  th'  endeavor 
From  bonds  so  sweet  to  sever ; 

Poor  Wisdom's  chance 

Against  a  glance 
Is  now  as  weak  as  ever. 


V 

V 


1 62  BALLADS   OF  BEAUTY. 


VR 


Not    a     Match. 


'    ITTY,  sweet  and  seventeen, 

Pulls  my  hair  and  calls  me  "  Harry  "  ; 
'Hints  that  I  am  young  and  green, 
Wonders  if  I  wish  to  marry. 
Only  tell  me  what  reply 

Is  the  best  reply  for  Kitty  ? 
She  's  but  seventeen,  and  / — 
I  am  forty,  —  more  's  the  pity  ! 


Twice  at  least  my  Kitty's  age 

(Just  a  trifle  over,  maybe), 
I  am  sober,  I  am  sage, 

Kitty  nothing  but  a  baby. 
She  is  merriment  and  mirth, 

I  am  wise  and  gravely  witty  ; 
She  's  the  dearest  thing  on  earth, 

I  am  forty,  — more  's  the  pity  ! 


She  adores  my  pretty  rhymes. 

Calls  me  "  poet "  when  I  write  them  ; 


dSN 


NOT  A   MATCH. 


165 


And  she  listens  oftentimes 

Half  an  hour  when  I  recite  them. 
Let  me  scribble  by  the  page 

Sonnet,  ode,  or  lover's  ditt)* ; 
Seventeen  is  Kitty's  age, 

I  am  fort)',  —  more  's  the  pity  ! 


*- 


SAAA^      YE      THE      LaSS  ? 


SAW  ye  the  lass  wi'  the  bonny  blue  een  ? 
\^^X   "^^^  smile  is  the  sweetest  that  ever  was  seen  ; 
Her  cheek  like  the  rose  is,  but  fresher,  I  ween, 
She  's  the  loveliest  lassie  that  trips  on  the  green. 
The  home  of  my  love  is  below  in  the  valley, 
Where  wild-flowers  welcome  the  wandering  bee  ; 
But  the  sweetest  of  flowers  in  that  spot  that  is  seen 
Is  the  maid  that  I  love  wi'  the  bonny  blue  een. 

When  night  overshadows  her  cot  in  the  glen, 
She  '11  steal  out  to  meet  her  loved  Donald  again  ; 
And  when  the  moon  shines  on  the  valley  so  green, 
I  '11  welcome  the  lass  wi'  the  bonny  blue  een. 
As  the  dove  that  has  wandered  away  from  his  nest 
Returns  to  the  mate  his  fond  heart  loves  the  best, 
I  '11  fly  from  the  world's  false  and  vanishing  scene. 
To  my  dear  one,  the  lass  wi'  the  bonny  blue  een. 


^ 


p^^^'^gg^.^' 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


APR 


61973 


Torm  L9-100m-9,'52(A3105)444 


^  A      000  2975225 


3   1158  00426  2175 


A.xxni 


